


The Lakers Fan and the Horny Boy

by istie



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Demon!Shane, Exploring Sexuality, Frat boy Ryan, M/M, Online Dating, Roommates, Secret Identity, Serial Killer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 17:31:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17166236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/istie/pseuds/istie
Summary: Ryan wants to try new things.  Shane seems like a great fit.  But is there more to him than meets the eye...?





	The Lakers Fan and the Horny Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fratboyryan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fratboyryan/gifts).



> This piece was written for the Shyan Secret Santa 2k18, for @fratboyryan! Their wishlist included demon!shane, fratboy!ryan, anything with zack, serial killer aus, and secret identity online dating ... so I took it upon myself to include every single one. 
> 
> Currently I am leaving this as a one-shot simply due to holiday time constraints, but I may continue it ...

Ryan spun slowly in his cheap office chair, staring dismally at the phone in his hand. “C’mon, man,” Zack said from where he lay, flopped on his stomach on his bed, bedding a disaster. “Just do it! What’s the worst that could happen?”

Ryan looked up at him balefully. “I dunno, get matched with someone who just wants to make my skin into a lampshade?”

Zack laughed. “Nah man, that only happens in the movies. People have been dating online for ages. You’ll be fine. Plus, y’know, you’re a dude. Strong dude at that. You’re kinda statistically more likely to be _just fine_.”

Ryan groaned and threw his head back, looking at the ceiling. “Yeah but I’m also statistically more likely to get into trouble because I’m a dude looking for another dude!”

“It’s 2018,” Zack replied, “shit might not be great but it’s getting better. Plus it’s _Grindr_ , man, the whole _point_ of the app is dudes looking for dudes.” Ryan just groaned again. “You’re really stacking the deck in your favour, man.”

“What if they shank me for being bi?” Ryan asked.

“You call 911, and once you get to the hospital you call me, and I drink all your gross shots for the next five frat parties,” Zack said, rolling onto his back. “It’s gonna be _fine_ , Ryan. You just say you’re looking for a hookup, some casual sex. It’s not a big deal, man. You’re on a college campus, you’re in a frat, you have the biggest biceps around, anyone would totally wanna rail you. They don’t even have to know you’re experimenting! It doesn’t matter!”

“I’m not sure ‘being in a frat’ is exactly a point in my favour, dude,” Ryan said, looking down at Zack and raising an eyebrow. “Not really the best reputation to have these days.”

Zack met his eyes upside-down and shrugged. “But it’s definitely code for ‘just want a one-night-stand’. You never have to see this dude again if you don’t wanna, and no one’s gonna think it’s weird. You have sex with a dude, you decide it’s not for you, you go back to bangin’ boots with the ladies. You’re allowed to experiment.”

Ryan looked down at his phone, where the sign-up button was staring him in the face. “You have to drink my shots even if they’re, like, cat food and body wash, man.”

“If you get shanked? You know it. I got your back. Your bro gets shanked, you take his shots.” Zack faux-saluted.

Ryan snorted. “That in the frat code?”

“Is now.”

“Christ, am I actually doing this?”

“I dunno, are you?”

Ryan took a deep breath and hit the button.

* * *

“What do you think of this guy?”

Zack looked over at Ryan’s phone. “Hm. Not my type personally, but he’s got that kind of weird handsome vibe going on. What do you like about him?”

Ryan kicked the table leg idly, textbooks long since abandoned in favour of scrolling through Grindr. He pondered the picture on his screen. “Well, he’s taller than God, for one,” he said, swiping to another picture.

“Holy shit, you’re not kidding,” Zack said, whistling low. “Didn’t know you had a thing for tall guys.”

“Neither did I,” Ryan replied, “but then up until recently I didn’t know I had a thing for guys at all, so.”

“Fair enough. So – tall guy equals good lay?”

“No fuckin’ clue.” Ryan shrugged. “But I like his beard and he looks friendly. Says he’s down for casual hookups. Also, look at this picture…” He swiped over to a pic of the dude where was wearing chinos, and he saw Zack’s jaw drop out of the corner of his eye.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” his roommate breathed, “is that a half-chub or …”

“Good question,” Ryan said, “but whether or not it is, I am _more_ than willing to find out.”

Zack elbowed him lightly. “So size kink too, eh?”

“All I know is I start salivating when I look at him.”

“Seems like a slam dunk to me.”

Ryan hit the button to send a message.

* * *

lakersfan [20:08]: hey dude

hornyboy [20:12]: hiya

lakersfan [20:13]: you still looking for dates?

hornyboy [20:14]: yeah

hornyboy [20:14]: straight to the point, aren’t you?

lakersfan [20:15]: no point beating around the bush, imo

hornyboy [20:18]: fair enough

hornyboy [20:19]: what are you looking for?

lakersfan [20:21]: casual i guess

hornyboy [20:22]: you guess?

lakersfan [20:25]: new to this

lakersfan [20:26]: don’t worry i’m not gonna like pine after you or some shit, i just want a hookup

hornyboy [20:30]: okay, i gotcha

hornyboy [20:30]: i can do that

hornyboy [20:31]: my place or yours?

lakersfan [20:36]: yours if that’s chill

lakersfan [20:37]: not super interested in my frat bros listening in

hornyboy [20:40]: lol alright

hornyboy [20:41]: when?

lakersfan [20:46]: i’m free tomorrow night

hornyboy [20:48]: cool, works for me

hornyboy [20:49]: 508 north second street, 9pm?

lakersfan [20:55]: i’ll be there

hornyboy [20:57]: looking forward to it

* * *

Ryan’s heart was in his mouth. The house was unassuming, in the middle of a residential area, not creepy at all. Zack knew where he was. He had a switchblade in his pocket, just in case. He felt vaguely ridiculous, but then he thought about all the awful stories he’d accidentally started reading that afternoon and then accidentally not been able to stop, and he gripped the little knife tightly through his pocket. “It’s gonna be fine,” he whispered to himself, “I can bail whenever if I’m not comfortable.” He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Ten seconds passed … twenty … then a light came on in the entryway, and Ryan could see a tall silhouette through the frosted glass of the front door. A second later, the door opened, and there he was: long limbs, scruffy face, soft brown hair, wide-set eyes, nice smile. “Hi,” he said, smiling down at Ryan. “Lakers fan, yeah?”

Ryan tried to smile. He was sure it was the most awkward thing to ever cross his face. “Yup. Lifelong. And you’re…”

The man laughed. “Horny boy. Dumb name, I know, but like you said, no point beating around the bush, yeah?” He stuck his hand out. “Shane Madej.”

Ryan shook. Shane’s hand was big, his fingers long. “Ryan Bergara.”

“Nice to meet you. C’mon in. Want a drink?” Shane stepped back, holding the door open for Ryan.

Ryan walked in. “Sure, that’d be great. I’m not picky, whatever you’ve got is great.” The house looked like anybody’s house: tidy enough, some art on the walls, a kitchen with a few dishes in the sink.

“Cool,” Shane replied. “Have a seat in the living room, I’ll be right there.”

Heading into the living room, Ryan got a better idea of Shane’s style. Dude seemed to have a thing for butterflies, which was maybe a little strange, but whatever. Ryan had the Lakers, Shane had butterflies. He could even see a really pretty blue one in a glass case on a bookshelf. He sat down on the couch, which was pretty comfy, and was looking around at the room when Shane came in, flicking on a lamp and handing Ryan a short tumbler with a finger or two of something amber. He took it and swirled it lightly in the glass, watching as Shane sat down in an armchair. “Thanks,” Ryan said, then sniffed the glass and nodded appreciatively. “Whiskey man?”

Shane nodded back. “My favourite way to loosen up. You like it?”

Ryan grinned despite his nerves. “I’m in a frat, man, we drink anything. Whiskey’s usually a little out of our price range, but I’ve had my fair share.”

Shane chuckled. “Fair enough. What are you studying between parties?”

Ryan laughed. This guy wasn’t bad. Maybe his nerves were unfounded. “You know how it goes, eh?” He sipped the whiskey, smacking his lips and savouring the burn on the way down. “Oh, that’s good.” He raised his glass to Shane, who echoed the movement, and then finally answered the question. “Film studies,” he said, “second year.”

“Nice!” Shane said, also sipping from his glass. “That a four-year degree?”

“Yup,” Ryan replied. “What about you? How do you spend your time?”

“Self-employed,” Shane said, pulling an ottoman over and kicking his feet up. His legs were _long_. “Mainly literary translation and historical research. I studied ancient languages, so I get all the weird manuscripts that nobody else can read.” He grinned, and his eyes turned into crescent moons, all crinkly at the corners.

“Wow, that’s intense,” Ryan said in surprise. “What all do you speak? Or read, I guess? Probably most of those languages are long dead…” He took another sip, already feeling the familiar looseness in his shoulders and the back of his neck.

“Oh yeah,” Shane agreed, nodding. “Little bit of everything really. Cuneiform systems are my specialty, I guess, and Akkadian if I had to pick just one, but I do Ancient Greek and Hebrew, Aramaic … all the Middle Eastern ones.”

“Dude, that’s fucking awesome,” Ryan said, mouth open. “Where’d you study?”

“Did a bunch of work over in the region,” Shane replied. “Lots of hands-on work. None of the digital scans are good enough to really get a handle on it, y’know? They’re better now than when I was studying, but nothing beats having the actual stuff in your hands.”

Ryan nodded slowly, impressed. “Man. That’s crazy. So why are you over here, scrolling through Grindr? Surely you have better things to do.”

Shane laughed and drained his whiskey. “Can’t live my whole life cooped up in a study! Gotta shake it up, let loose.”

“That’s fair,” Ryan said, even more impressed by Shane downing a finger and a half of whiskey like it was nothing. This was strong shit. “I know that feeling.” He grinned. “Midterms are a bitch.”

“Sure are. What better way to de-stress than with good booze and a good lay?”

“You’re my kind of guy,” Ryan said. He took a long sip of his drink. “If you don’t mind my asking, and please don’t feel like you have to answer if you don’t want to, but – are you only into guys, or…?”

Shane shrugged. “I play the field, honestly,” he said. “Been mostly into guys lately, but that hasn’t always been the case. You?”

He took a deep breath. He didn’t have to tell Shane anything he didn’t want to, but … he felt like Shane was trustworthy. He swallowed the last of the whiskey. “So far, to be honest, I’ve been straight as an arrow. But lately … I dunno. I’m interested.”

Shane lifted an eyebrow. “This isn’t a dare, is it?”

“No!” Ryan exclaimed, almost spluttering in surprise. “No, no, nothing like that! This isn’t some sort of weird frat thing, no, no, God no.” He shook himself and sat up straighter. “I just … think I might be into guys. And there’s not really any way to confirm that except, well.” He knew he was blushing. Fuck. It had been going so well! He shouldn’t have fucking said anything, he should have just gone along with it. ( _But then what would have happened once they got to the bedroom?_ Ryan’s brain supplied. _There’s no way you would have been able to fake your way through that…_ )

Shane nodded slowly, contemplating Ryan. “…Alright,” he said finally. “You’re kinda throwing yourself in the deep end, here, you know.”

Ryan scratched the back of his neck, feeling his cheeks burn an even deeper red. “Yeah, I … “ He looked up at Shane sheepishly. “No one ever said frat boys were the best at making sensible decisions.”

There was a moment of silence, then Shane started snickering, with this gorgeous warmth in his eyes that made Ryan’s heart melt, and Ryan started laughing too. It _was_ pretty ridiculous. “So this is your first time, then?” Shane said, gently.

“With a dude, yeah,” Ryan replied. “I mean, I’ve … I’ve, like, played around a bit, tried a few toys out.”

“Okay,” Shane said, “that’s good to know. You prefer bottoming?”

“God, I just want to crawl into the earth and die,” Ryan said, putting his glass down on the coffee table and hiding his face in his hands. “Why is this so awkward? Yes, I’m pretty sure I prefer bottoming, but like … I don’t _know_ that for sure.”

“Internalized homophobia’s a terrible thing,” Shane said, “don’t stress about it. I just wanna know what you like and don’t like so I can show you a good time. Yeah?”

Ryan took a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s totally fair.” He lifted his head and tried to crack a smile. “Be gentle with me, baby,” he said, going for the most over-the-top flirty voice he possibly could, “I’m a quivering flower.”

Shane stifled a snort, then grinned, but his eyes had a dark twinkle to them. “Oh honey,” he replied, his own voice turning sultry and deep, “I’ll take _good_ care of you.”

Ryan felt his dick twitch in his jeans, and he couldn’t help but look down at Shane’s crotch. He’d forgotten, amidst the butterflies and the whiskey, that Shane was wearing chinos. He dry swallowed.

* * *

Ryan ended up going home the next morning, after Shane made them both eggs and hash browns. It had been a _ride_ – occasionally literally. Ryan felt like he was walking weird, but there weren’t enough windows between Shane’s front door and Ryan’s car to really get a look. In any case, if he hadn’t been sure he was into dudes before, he sure was now. He _ached_ , but it was a _good_ ache, and if he hadn’t had a class he really liked at ten-thirty, he probably wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from asking Shane for another round.

He fell into his seat next to Zack and immediately regretted it, wincing. Zack, of course, noticed instantly, and chortled. “Good night?” he asked.

“Oh my God,” Ryan said, laying his head on the little desk shelf thing. “Oh my _God_ , Zack.” Zack just laughed at him.

* * *

“So what’s he like?” Zack asked. They were back in their standard configuration, only this time Ryan was stretched out on his bed and Zack was twirling slowly in the office chair.

“Way too cultured for late twenties-early thirties,” Ryan said. “He poured me two fingers of whiskey as a fuckin’ _aperitif_ , dude. And it was good whiskey, too, it didn’t smell like it’d peel paint and it had this incredible sweet burn. Plus he speaks like half a dozen dead languages and has spent time overseas and he has his own _house_. I’ve, like, found myself a young Indiana Jones or something.”

“I dunno, he looks a little too academic to make a convincing Indy,” Zack said with a laugh. “He’s gotta be loaded then, yeah?”

“Oh probably,” Ryan said. “Old money, I bet. Maybe a Bruce Wayne type?”

Zack snorted. “So he’s a great lay but he’s a trust fund kid?”

“No, no,” Ryan wheezed. “He’s an awesome guy. Super friendly, real understanding. He’s probably older than he looks, though, like I thought he was only a few years older than me but now I’m doubting that.”

“Alright, alright,” Zack said, nodding. “And the sex?”

“Fucking _incredible_ ,” Ryan said with a moan. “You know the chinos picture?”

“I think about it with alarming regularity,” Zack replied.

“That was a softie.” Ryan rolled onto his stomach and looked Zack in the eyes. “I _definitely_ have a size kink.”

Zack’s face broke into a huge grin. “You gonna see him again?”

“God yes.”

* * *

“You at Shane’s again tonight?” Zack asked, as Ryan came out of the bathroom, toweling off his hair.

“Yep,” Ryan said, with an unapologetic grin, “sure am.”

Zack laughed. “Sweet. I’m gonna bring Jess over then, if that’s chill with you.”

“For sure,” Ryan replied, tossing the towel on the back of the chair. “Have fun, dude.”

“You too.” Zack dropped his phone on the bed. “What’d you think of that crazy urban legend thing?”

“Oh, the thing about the demon serial killer?” Ryan laughed, rubbing gel into his hair. “That was one hell of a story. Brent really outdid himself. I’m so glad we decided to do a conspiracy theory thing for film club, it’s been fucking hilarious.”

“I thought you believed in that sort of thing, though?” Zack asked. “Ghosts and demons and stuff?”

“Yeah, sure,” Ryan said, pulling on a tight black t-shirt. “But a _demon serial killer?_ That really stretches the imagination. Serial killer, that I’d believe. There’s sketchy folks out there, maybe even sketchy folks into university-age men. But no bodies have ever been found! Serial killers have _patterns_ , man, and usually they want _attention_. And if it was a _demon_ picking dudes off every few years, don’t you think we’d have found, like, _evidence of satanic rituals_ or something? Nah.” He pulled on his jeans, did up his belt. “I’m one of the first to believe in conspiracies, but I’m way more likely to believe that the police are covering up drug overdoses and getting paid off by organized crime in this case.” He shrugged. “Which is horrible if it’s true, but it’s not supernatural.”

“Fair enough,” Zack said. “Keep an eye out for pentagrams, man.” He grinned.

Ryan laughed. “Always do.”

* * *

Tonight’s drink was an even older whiskey with a name Ryan couldn’t wrap his tongue around: 40 years old, to be precise, and its smokiness heralded a beautiful deep burn that he could _swear_ was actually lighting him on fire. “God, this is good,” he muttered, swirling the dark amber liquid in his glass. “What’s the occasion?”

Shane, in his usual armchair, smiled. “No occasion really,” he said, “just felt like breaking open the good stuff. It’s the end of term, we’ve had an amazing couple months, why not celebrate?”

“I guess so,” Ryan replied, “but man, do you ever spoil me.”

Shane’s smile turned soft, crow’s-feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “You deserve it. Are you complaining?”

“Not at all,” Ryan said, feeling his cheeks warm. “Just … “

The tall man across from him, his face shaded in the lamplight, frowned. “What is it? Did I say something wrong?”

Ryan shook his head. “No, you didn’t.” He looked up at Shane, also frowning. “I just feel like I don’t deserve you, man. You’re so … _nice_. You’re _clearly_ loaded, what with the whiskey and all the travelling and I just— man, I’m a frat boy studying film. Why me? You’re so obviously out of my league, you might as well be on fucking _Pluto_.”

Shane was silent for a moment before putting his glass on the coffee table and coming over to sit beside Ryan. Ryan didn’t look at him, his gaze firmly fixed on a curve in the wood grain near Shane’s glass. Shane raised his hand as if to touch Ryan’s shoulder, then paused. “May I?” he asked, quietly.

Ryan blinked, looking up at him, puzzled. “Of course,” he said, “why are you asking?”

Shane let his hand fall to Ryan’s shoulder, where he squeezed it gently. “I never want to assume, especially if you’re unhappy, and especially if it’s because of me.” He took a slow breath, gathering his thoughts before continuing. “I won’t lie to you – yes, money is no object for me. Long story, not really relevant. I want to spoil you rotten because I love you, but if something I do or give you makes you uncomfortable, please tell me. Your comfort is more important to me than any gift.”

“…What did you just say?” Ryan had looked back at the table while Shane was speaking, and now it seemed to him that the wood was swirling in front of his eyes. He felt like the whiskey had gone straight to his head, even though he’d barely sipped it.

Shane tilted his head. “I said, please tell me if I make you uncomf—”

“No, the other thing. You said…you said _it._ “

“…I love you?”

Ryan’s tongue didn’t want to work. Was _that_ the word for what he’d been feeling the last few weeks?

Shane’s hand left Ryan’s shoulder, and he shifted back on the couch a little. “If you don’t feel the same way, I’m so sorry – I’ve been reading things entirely incorrectly, then, I just thought…” He trailed off.

Ryan slowly shook his head. “No, no, that’s not…” He looked up at Shane, feeling like his heart was well and truly in his mouth. Shane looked abashed, embarrassed, apologetic. “That’s not it. I’m just…overwhelmed.”

“Okay…” Shane said. “Do you want some space? Do you want a break?”

Ryan’s heart tugged violently. “No!” he burst out, making Shane recoil in surprise. “No,” he said again, more softly, “no, that’s the last thing I want.” He put his glass down on the table and ran his hands through his hair. “I mean, maybe that would be _smart_ , but everything in my head is all mixed up and— _Jesus—_ I think I love you too?” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’ve never felt like this before with someone, and I want to give you the world, but I can’t, and I feel so guilty that you’re showering me with everything I could ever want.”

“Ryan.” Shane’s voice was gentle and warm, and it brought Ryan out of his anxiety and made him open his eyes. Shane had gotten off the couch somehow, and was kneeling in front of Ryan. He was still almost at eye level, the man was so damn long in all the right places. He was looking into Ryan’s eyes, and he gently took Ryan’s hands from the sides of his head and brought them down to his lap, clasping them in his own. “ _Ryan_ ,” he repeated, as if he couldn’t find the words to say what he was feeling, as if he was trying to convey it all just in his name.

“Shane,” Ryan whispered, feeling like he was about to cry.

Shane just held his hands, looking into Ryan’s eyes for several long breaths before finally speaking again. “Ryan… It’s been a long time for me, too.” He ran his thumb over the back of Ryan’s hand. “A very long time. And maybe, maybe I’m a little out of practice, I’ll give you that. Maybe I’m going too fast. You wanna slow down, we’ll slow down. And… you’re right, I have the world already, but I don’t _want_ the world. I want something the world can never give me, and that’s you. I want _you_ , if you’ll have me.” He lifted Ryan’s hands to his mouth and kissed them softly, one kiss on each finger. “I want _your_ world.”

Ryan couldn’t speak. It felt like his heart had gotten so far up his throat that it was lodged there. He opened his mouth, then closed it, and he could feel tears welling in his eyes. Finally, he gave up, just nodded, and leaned in to kiss the man kneeling in front of him. As he did, he caught a glimpse of a star-shaped pendant hanging just below Shane’s collar, the top button undone.

* * *

Ryan’s eyes cracked open to bright Italian sun, and he could hear the birds outside the window. He relaxed into the pillows, made a small noise of contentment, and felt the man next to him in bed shift in the soft white sheets. A moment later, Shane’s arm slipped over Ryan’s bare chest, long fingers tracing idle patterns on the skin of his arm, and Shane’s head nestled in next to Ryan’s. Ryan could feel his breath, warm on his ear.

“Good morning,” Shane murmured, his voice cracking slightly from sleep.

“Mm,” Ryan replied, turning to kiss him. Shane kissed back, and for a minute or two no more talking occurred. At last, as Shane kissed a trail down Ryan’s neck and along his collarbone, Ryan asked, “What do you want to do today?”

Shane chuckled deeply, and slid a hand down Ryan’s back. “We have to do things?”

Ryan laughed, squirming a little as Shane kept kissing down his chest. “We’re in Italy, Shane, I want to see _some_ sights.”

Shane looked up at him, righteous indignation playing across his face. “Ryan, I’m shocked at you. Surely you know your gorgeous self is better than any museum. I’ve got all the sights I need right here.”  The star-shaped pendant Shane always wore brushed across Ryan's skin, and Ryan finally clocked what it was … a pentagram.

Oh fuck.


End file.
